by Marco della Cava, USA TODAY

by Marco della Cava, USA TODAY

As I watch the drama unfolding in Ukraine, the voice I hear is that of Maria Dyhdalevych, my maternal grandmother, who came to this country in 1949 and died on the eve of Ukraine's independence in 1991.

"I'm not Russian," I recall her telling New York friends as I grew up in the 1970s. "I'm Ukrainian. There's a difference."

Back then, she might as well have said she was from Mars. There was only one Slavic entity, the Soviet Union. Today, everyone knows Ukraine, and I wondered what the diaspora was feeling as Russian President Vladimir Putin muscled into the affairs and territory of his southern neighbor.

"There's general disbelief, horror and fear of a full-scale attack by Putin, complete with bombs raining down on Kiev (the capital)," says Andrew Motyl, a Ukrainian-American political scientist at Rutgers University. "Many of us have family and friends there who could well be dead soon."

Motyl says Ukrainian Americans feel a "sense of powerlessness" watching the events unfold. Though there's hope that "we'll pull through this, there's also that 5% chance that Russian tanks will roll all the way to the border with Poland, which is 5% too many."

Some cope by taking action, whether writing checks to relief organizations or letters to members of Congress. Others take to the streets, such as members of the Ukraine Group of Boston, which staged a number of protests against Russia's apparent takeover of the Crimean peninsula, an autonomous and strategically vital region of Ukraine.

"The community is mobilizing, and it's not just those from (nationalist) western Ukraine, but often younger recent emigres from (Russified) eastern Ukraine," says Peter Woloschuk, media coordinator for Harvard University's Ukrainian Research Institute, which has hosted some of the opposition leaders who have taken over in Kiev for ousted president Viktor Yanukovych.

"The hope is that perhaps finally in Kiev there's a functioning government that cares for all Ukrainians, from both west and east," Woloschuk says. "No one wants an open conflict."

For Rika Antonova, 31, who came to the USA at 18 and is pursuing a robotics masters at Carnegie Mellon University, a conflict in eastern Ukraine would engulf friends and family alike.

"I'm from Zaporozhye in the east, and yes, people there want to speak Russian (as their primary language), but that doesn't mean they want to be Russian," she says. "People I e-mail are of many opinions, but even those who didn't support (the revolt in Kiev) aren't in favor of Russia coming in. We are pushing for Ukrainians everywhere to stand together."

That specific call goes out Sunday in Crimea, which will hold a referendum on whether to join Russia - a vote U.S. officials will not recognize.

"Everyone is tense as we count down to that vote," says Roma Hadzewycz, editor of The Ukrainian Weekly, an 81-year-old publication based in Parsippany, N.J. "There's a fear that if we lose Crimea, it's just the beginning."

Hadzewycz says readers from coast to coast have asked her to publish the names and addresses of U.S. lawmakers. "The feeling is, 'If the West lets Russia have Crimea, are we going to start carving up borders all around the world?' " she says. "We're all afraid this is Putin's slow dismemberment of Ukraine and a return to the Soviet domination that existed for so long."

If that happens, expect to hear the body of Maria Dyhdalevych and other proud Ukrainians rolling over.

Marco della Cava is a former foreign correspondent who covers technology and culture for USA TODAY.